Page 98 of The Pact
“I’m down with pizza. Babe, you good with that?” Liam has his arm around Alie, and she looks up and nods.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Both girls are twirling around, completely oblivious to our conversation, so we wrangle them up and head out.
Fifteen minutes later, we walk into the restaurant, and it’s already full with kids and families. It seemed like every head turned our way when Liam and Saint walked through the door. Especially the fathers.
Once we find a table, the kids crowd around us, hoping to get a close look at Saint and Liam. They’re both used to the attention, so they don’t mind.
“Your uncle is so cool,” I hear one kid whisper to Remy.
I see Remy’s chest puff as much as a seven-year-old’s chest can puff, and he says, “Yeah, I know. He’s the best tackle in the NFL.”
He stumbles a little on the word tackle, and it makes me smile.
Then Aston and Brody walk in, and the noise seems even louder. Because when Aston doesn’t just exist in a room. He takes it over.
“REMY!” he yells with his hands around his mouth.
I look at Remy, who’s as surprised to see Aston as I am.
“My man,” Aston walks over and tries to do a handshake with him. “I’m sorry I missed the game, bud. Tell me all about it.”
Aston glances over at us and nods hello, then leans in and listens to Remy. That’s the thing about Aston. He’s goofy, but he’s really great with kids, and below the humor is a really good, sincere friend.
Brody sits down in one of the empty chairs around our table. “What’s up?”
“How did you guys know we were here?” Saint asks.
“I told them,” Liam pipes up. “Aston called on our way over here.”
One of the kids walks over and stands next to Remy. “Aren’t you?—”
“Yes, I’m the favorite,” Aston says immediately.
“You play with Saint and Liam?” another kid asks.
“I do. Are you a Titans fan?”
“I am! Can you sign my shirt?” he nods excitedly.
“Sure can. Do you have a marker?” Aston asks.
“Mom! Can you find me a marker?” the kid yells.
One of the dads walks over to our group. “Hey, all. I’m Mark, Pete’s dad,” he points at a kid who must be Pete. “It’s really great you’re out with the kids. It means a lot to see their heroes in normal settings like this.”
Saint stands and shakes his hand. “Wouldn’t miss it. My nephew scored the winning goal today.” Now it’s Saint’s turn to have a puffed-out chest.
“I know, I saw it. He’s a great kid. We’re lucky to have him on the team.” The dad releases Saint’s hand. “I hate to ask, but is your brother Aiden Griffith?” Mark asks Aston.
Aston smiles and nods. “Yeah, he’s my older brother. You a fan?”
The way this adult man’s face lights up is almost comical. “I’m a huge fan. I’ve followed his career since juniors. He’s a force.”
“That’s awesome. Yeah, he’s the best forward in the league.” Aston says proudly. “What do you think, Remy? Should we call Aiden and see what he’s up to?”
“WHAT?!” Remy and pretty much every other kid in this place shouts. “Yes! You know he’s my favorite player, right?”
